Original subtitles

My father's story starts that day in February 1786

That morning seemed to be the first one.

THE WHIMS OF A RIVER

It's boring...

It's boring to death.

It's wonderful.

Forgive me.

Congratulations, dear !

Ladies.... Many of us will never get over Jean-François's departure.

Madame de St Aignan less than any one else.

Forgive my light approach to all this. I'm very sorry too.

I forgive it all before going in exile.

This party is yours. It's only goodbye of course.

When are you leaving ?

Tomorrow. Leaving for La Rochelle.

I must ship out on "l'esperance" with all my possessions.

They're doing something bad sending you among the niggers.

In the world's asshole.

A black ass of course.

Did you have to kill this old marquis ?

For a woman's love...

There aren't many men left who'd do that.

It's a desperate deed.

Dishonor is a wound that can't be healed.

Your exile is not dishonorable at all, Jean-François.

No... but I feel wounded all the same.

What's the name of that small settlement you're being sent to ?

It's called Cape St Louis, my dear.

We shall petition the king so that you come back quickly among us.

Don't do it. You can't kill the king's friend and not be punished.

I don't think my exile will last long.

Will you write to me ? It only takes one month for the letters to get there.

Such a long time without being able to touch you.

Put your hand on my neck.

What will you do so far from us all ?

I already told you : fight mosquitoes, play with the monkeys,

ride the negresses.

You're as light as ever.

Too light to stop you from leaving.

You will be in command of the Africa battalion ?

I will supervise the officer in command of the Africa battalion.

About a hundred men. All of them former convicts.

So you will meet negro kings. How exciting !

Quite !

Our priest says they eat each other.

Yes but they like white flesh better.

How dreadful !

Not so long ago you were quite greedy for white flesh too.

Being such an a man of action, you must be delighted.

Aren't you delighted to see me me go ?

I can't say I'm not.

Thank you for your sincerity.

Come back quickly. Before I leave.

François, we won't play the Goose Game any more. Take it with you.

Thank you, Miss....

Don't move !

Well... Here is a small comedy by Mr de Marivaux....

A choice of my scholar husband.

Dedicated to Jean-François.

- Arlequin ? - Master ?

What will become of us on this island ?

We'll get thinner and thinner and finally starve to death.

This is what I feel.

Stand straight !

Listen to me !

When our ship was wrecked on the rocks,

some of our men managed to jump in the boat

it is true that the waves....

One last time !

Here....Standing... Now !

One last time !

They're nearby ! - They're watching the play !

Let's neglect nothing to get out of here.

We are on slave island.

What race is that ?

They're slaves from Greece in rebellion against their masters.

A hundred years ago, they decided to live on an island....

Your excellency !

I did the best I could for your bedroom.

I added that dresser...

that I had repaired as well as those curtains.

It's quite plain though.

Thank you !

You will have to receive the local notables soon.

They're very boring but there's few of them.

I will be bored very little. Is that it ?

Yes.

There will also two trials on the 15th of this month.

I have to be the judge too ? I didn't know.

Yes but traders against the company, freed slaves against their former masters.

Usual quarrels. Nothing that really matters.

Oh I forgot...

Anne Brisseau holds a ball in your honor.

It is important indeed. Must I go ?

It's a small community here. You cannot not go.

And apart from the drinking parties at the Surgeon Major,

and Father Fleuriau's choral group, you know...

there's very little entertainment in this...

here it's somewhat...

it's exile, I know...

I apologize.

Who's that...Anne Brisseau ?

A mulatto woman.

Wealthy ! Very wealthy !

She is the widow of the former finance organizer.

He commited suicide.

Rum and above all boredom did it !

Speaking of organizer, where's Monsieur de Kermadec ?

Here I am, Excellency !

The state of accounts and wages is at your disposal.

Here's the list of customs to pay negro kings,

to the moor tribes on the river and those at the Fouta Djalon.

Yes.

There's a report from the company about trade on the river,

gold, ivory, slaves....

Something to read...

And... a few messages from the fort if you give some time...

Time ? Mr Combaud will take care of that

when cleaning is over with.

Right. Right, Excellency...

Does this man ever laugh ?

Not to my knowledge.

May I still be of use, Excellency ?

Yes... Be kind enough not to call me"Excellency".

I'm not really an excellency.

Governor, Sir ?

Better, yes.

Tell me, lieutenant. Why have you stayed here so long ?

Strangely enough... You get used to it.

Ask Major Blanet for 20 men among the cleverer and wittier.

It will be difficult, Sir !

And requisition all the brooms of this delicious dwelling.

Men...I'd like to teach you a manoeuvre. If your commanding officer agrees.

It's my harpsichord's. It goes like this... 1,2...1,2,3.

I assume you can count that far.

They're the most gifted, Excellency.

I'll show you.

One...

Two...

One, two, three...

When ordered... Handle your brooms.

One...Two... One...Two...Three.

And... One...Two...

One, two, three.

One, two... One, two, three...

One, two...

One, two, three...

Who's that man ? - He's got no tongue.

I assume elite soldiers are escorting us.

I fear so.

Father Fleuriau won't be here

He is making a pastoral visit on the Waloo territory.

He's very actively taking care of a young girls'convent.

It's a convent of very pretty young girls.

Black and virgin.

If we must believe him.

And what about God ?

He takes care of God's business. He's a good, active, efficient man.

Ah shut up !

I offer my respects, Madame.

I'm glad to meet you, Governor.

Welcome to Cape St Louis.

Will you come to the ball, Monsieur ?

I might, Madame.

Do come !

Our small community will be very happy.

But before that, why wouldn't you come visit me ?

The afternoons are hot.

And my garden is shaded.

I shall come, Madame.

He says he knows of a hot and ripe fruit and knows where it's hiding.

Be quiet ! You will be punished !

And so will you, Monsieur.

If you're not coming

That invitation is very significant.

Indeed.

Let's go !

Anne Boisseau made a fortune in trade. She owns forty slaves.

Oh... I forgot...

I'm making a sort of huge kettle.

Not quite ready yet. But I think I'll change sea water in spring water.

The hospital needs it.

This is the hospital, your Excellency !

My... my... The governor !

I miss the Navy.

Here, nothing moves.

Can you hear ? nothing is moving.

But you pitch admirably, my dear.

Just an illusion. The ship is in a drydock

with sand up to her yards.

A sinking ship is a sad sight.

I told the Minister about it but I'm afraid we'll be the last ones served.

The Surgeon Major complains, says he lives in a pigsty.

He expects sheets, surgical instrument, potions but he gets nothing.

May I introduce Master Makuta Ndiaye, Your Excellency ?

He is, in a way, the surgeon's assistant.

He is a damn help for the Major.

He is a marabou from the Fouta Touro. Very gifted.

Very efficient. He is a well travelled and learned man.

A sorcerer and a priest.

He does indeed help me, but we're naked, Your Excellency.

Utterly naked.

One who is proud of his nakedness will be insolent

African plants do good work.

To be a marabou, you must study a lot

and pray a lot too.

And whom do you pray, Sir ?

Well... let's thank Mr Makuta for his commitment.

We also thank the philosopher.

Oh, I'm only a parrot who goes repeating the words of an old wise man.

He says that recognizing oneself is better than learn it from others.

That negro annoys me.

Yes... we're expecting the rain.

I think I shall like seeing it whip the palms and stream along on the earth.

I close my eyes to remember a fountain,

a fountain in your garden.

I long for your lips,

for your feet on my belly,

I long for you.

I breathe you.

You were looking for me ?

You were looking for me ?

I wasn't.

Well... Yes... I was looking for that.

I meant... Did you need me ?

Not then... But I do now.

I knew you liked music. I wanted it to be a surprise.

It is a surprise. Fine ivory, fine low note.

- Your score. - I had noticed.

- Forgive me ! - No way ! Come with me !

Bring it along, of course.

Come on...

Thanks to you, I'll start living again.

We'll sail up the river to Podor. - The company demands a few captives.

The aim of that trip is the custom of Ahmed Moktar.

The moor is powerful and uncompromising.

I'll come along.

I certainly wouldn't advise it. It's unsafe and unsound.

You have better things to do. - And what would you have me do?

Let's leave the account organizer organize as he should.

A 5 weeks'travel at the most !

I really want to come along.

The asshole of the world... - That's right

Father, Major, Gentlemen...

Don't trouble yourself, Madam.

How do they live at the King's Court ?

Scantily... Compared to here.

Now, please... tell me. How do they live at the Court ?

They live, courting.

They prattle... They pick into the others'plates.

There are all sorts of strange animals, courtesans mainly...

Have you read Mr de la Fontaine ?

I can't read. I'll wait for you after supper.

Getting married is not an obligation ? - Nothing is. Except love.

but it's so natural here.

At the Cape, the socially acceptable people are really plain.

The evenings are endless.

It looks like collective drowning without anyone crying out or revolting.

I surprise myself sometimes by feeling well.

Where are you tonight, Madame ?

Not hearing your voice makes me feel despair.

I can't touch the whiteness of your arms.

I can't rejoice seeing a tear of pleasure in your eyes.

Did I tell you about that exhilarating perfume here ?

It is both peppery and sweet.

I get a taste for amber-colored skins. Will you hold that against me ?

It is such a long time since I last made love.

I shall come back to you, Madame.

and will bring you to delight in a game we worship.

I'm slipping inside you. I love you.

I'll finish it.

I shall die here.

I shall kill you, my governor.

You're going on the river. So you're telling me.

To reconnoiter its banks and meet with the moorish king,

You frighten me.

I who do so like the softness in things.

Take good care of yourself.

Something strange is happening.

We're in September...

and it is snowing.

I love you.

How does he manage avoiding the shoals ?

Sailing this river is an inexact science.

One must read the color of water,

locate the flows. He knows how to do it.

His mastery and authority have surprised me since we left.

I mean... for a negro.

Annibal is a freed slave. He is an officer, you know.

An officer in the Royal Navy.

Did you know that Paul Denis

of the "Compagnie des Indes" was a slave of the Moors for 2 years.

He was saved by an Englishman who bought him back.

He speaks fluent Arabian, he will be very useful with Moktar

but he is a slave trader.

Because of that, he is friendly with Mr de Kermadec

our delightful organizer.

You would have known. Everybody is into trafficking here :

the negro kings, the Moors, the mulattoes, the signares...

Each one wants his share of the slave traders' cargo.

I don't like a civil servant doing that sort of thing.

It always starts as a wonderful sailing trip.

And yet we're only going to Podor. 15 to 16 days if the wind stays with us.

4 or 5 days to sail down.

If we have no problem.

They will plunder the last canoe.

It's a strange agreement between them and the Sarakoles.

Your old aunt, Helene de Givors, was flickering like a candle's flame

She passed away yesterday night.

You will be sad, I know. What are you doing ?

What unlikely conquest are you dreaming of ?

You're not so young, my friend. Don't forget it.

We're ready, Excellency. We can fear an attack from the river.

But tonight, it seems impossible.

At the moment, the invasion comes from inland.

Those mosquitoes will drive me crazy if they don't kill me.

They got de Choiseul in Podor. They'll get me in the end.

Why don't you wear a muslin ? It suits us magnificently.

Muslin or no muslin, they're the stronger.

To your health, gentlemen ! To France !

That woman who 's singing is the most beautiful negress in the convoy.

I saw her. She is very beautiful indeed.

They are beautiful but stupid. They're born slaves.

Their docility is appalling.

Because of slavery !

What's because of slavery ?

Their appalling docility !

I can't believe that voice is that of a stupid young woman.

It's a negress singing, Your Excellency. I like their singing.

Not a negress !

It's an ordinary slave raid in a Fouta village.

The caravan will head north and sell its cattle to some desert tribe.

Or on the Mediterranean coast.

And what shall I control on this river ?

Not much. Podor is a usual stopover. No more.

We must be watchful.

The Minister of colonies is dreaming when he speaks of colonies.

Men die for gum and some gold,

and you'll be in command of a land fort over which floats the king's flag.

The wind will eventually erase it all.

We're serving France, Sir.

In what way are we serving France ?

It would take a whole army to have control of the river

settlers to work the lands,

and a fine health.

I hope I'll have it.

So do I. I hope I will.

What shall we do, Sir ?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

God willing, tomorrow we shall be in Podor.

We shall see king Ahmed Moktar.

I owe you to be afraid, Madame. Afraid to lose you.

And afraid of losing myself on this whimsical river.

It is a pleasant fear...

A delight I don't really understand.

Line up, men. Line up !

If you're not back in 8 days, I'll step in.

Line up !

Mr Denis, please !

Be kind enough to translate.

He assures you of his allegiance and his friendship for France.

And of his pleasure in receiving the custom.

He hopes trade between our two communities will be fruitful.

He is very surprised of my speaking Arabian and sorry for my being a slave.

He is lying, of course.

Mr Denis !

And he also thanks you for the pistols, the tobacco and the molasses

But it's not enough.

He wants rifles and gun powder.

And he also asks why you're staying on this horse

instead of drinking camel milk with him.

He says he wishes us a good life and a fine death, Allah be with you.

He swears loyal friendship and his protection.

He looks nice enough but I don't trust him.

He is treacherous. That's my feeling.

He wants me to buy slaves and gold. I agreed for our safety.

Nothing will happen to us, Mr Denis. I represent the king of France,

demurely, I grant you that ; but... I represent him.

I know that, of course. I only voice fears.

Stop voicing them, will you ?

Here is your present, Excellency.

You must accept, Sir.

It is a sort of political alliance and a diplomatic duty.

Do accept, Your Excellency.

She is a high value slave. The Signares are crazy about them.

Mrs Brisseau will give you a very high price for her.

Does the present have a name ?

You're to give her one, Your Excellency.

Well... do thank the prince for the present.

The custom lasted four days.

Mr Denis traded the slaves and the gold to his advantage.

Moktar had two princes, tempted by power, beheaded in front of the French.

We had to admire the swordsmen's skills.

The two heads fell down in the dust.

Their bodies remained kneeling.

They were kicked down.

The cavalcades came to their end. So did courtesy.

Moktar returned to the desert and my father toward the sea.

She may be dumb but she is not deaf.

What shall I do with her ?

A housemaid !

Dumb ?

Dumb.

We'll have to defend ourselves, Gentlemen.

This is the price to pay for having seen Moktar.

Such is life on the river !

Hateful, isn't it ?

Mr Denis... load your cannons.

Don't worry... We'll greet them as they deserve to be.

Load cannons !

Why do you stay in this country ?

Out of duty.

I've got a wife here.

Black.

And two children.

I can't take them back to France.

So, I stay here.

You love them ?

As much as I love Africa.

Our small negro girl is not so shy any more.

She still refuses to speak. But she enjoys the spinet.

I gave her a name.... Amalie.

I'll send her to you on the next ship.

With a couple of small negro boys. Do you fancy that ?

Yes... I look for you in the night on the river. Where are you ?

Where are you in that French winter ?

You know, Governor... when

the sun turns white, it means the season of the sandwinds is coming.

How did you manage to put Father Giraud in such a little trunk ?

In disorder, but there's all of him.

Why bury him so close to the river ?

He liked this place, you know. But in the next flood...

Thank you, Governor. Thank you for

giving us that trunk. Everything is lacking here.

Especially coffins

I'll have wood planks sent to you as soon as we're back.

Father Giraud thought he had been bewitched.

He may have been...

I tried exorcizing him. To no use.

That's why he put an end to his life.

Well... I owe this good Giraud a small burying ceremony.

God will have to understand that too.

But...

What flies without ever coming down ?

Zoe's robes ! Zoe's robes !

No, no, no.... What flies without ever coming down, Monsieur Pierre ?

The wind, Zoe !

Yes, Monsieur Pierre. The wind !

What goes up by the tail, Monsieur Pierre ?

The spon !

Spoon, Amalie ! The spoon !

The spoon !

The spoon ! The spoon !

You should entrust your little negresss to my care.

She'd improve faster with us.

Mr Combaud teaches her.

I could send her to our convent school.

She's pretty!

I don't want to have her married to God through you, Father.

In Africa, I've learned two things :

that love also has a body and

that a priest cannot convert. He can only convince.

- Thank you for that Loire Wine - Thank you for that music score.

Take it ! I copied it for you.

It's approximate, you know...

Here nothing is written. Everything is passed on orally.

With slight changes.

So change it... It's a song about destiny, fate....

That's the way it is.

What life is like, what death is like...

What love is like. That's the way things are !

What about you ? Are you that way too ?

You will be.

Your Excellency !

There we are !

I'm sorry. I thought this was urgent.

Have you seen anything urgent here ?

I'm really sorry.

It's all right !

It is said that the negro is the happier on earth

because he thinks less.

So... you should be very happy.

It is not possible. - I can see. Let's go then...

It's a provisional report on the colony's spendings...

a census of the inhabitants. A provisional one too.

The wages of the African battalions. Sit down, Excellency.

I heard that you have shares in slave ships.

And that you work closely with Mr Denis of the Company.

That you trade gold, raw ivory and captives.

Everyone trades here...

No, Mister. I don't.

Neither does Mr Combaud... Nor does Major de Blanet.

You are a civil servant and you spend for your own benefit.

Owning slaves and trading them is not unlawful.

That's right... It's not unlawful. Forgive me.

The negroes are also have slaves.

They say that a negro's slave is much more unhappy than a white man's slave.

"They" don't say so. You do !

That's probably the reason why you ship your slaves to the West Indies.

No civilized people can do without slavery.

It's a trade, necessary to its economy.

I could not put the blame on a trade that is so useful to my country.

I thank you for the lesson, Monsieur.

I had no such intention, Your Excellency.

Intentions don't always count.

He may be right.

I'd like to be useful.

We are useless, my dear. You, with your drawings, your flute, your enthusiasm,

I with my harpsichord, my title. I don't govern anything.

But I want to teach France to a small negro girl.

Am I not stupid !

You're in Africa !

France is changing, they say.

Philosophers, authors, politicians spread new ideas.

Madame, I wanted to have Amalie sail on the next ship to La Rochelle

but I'd like her to be more accomplished to serve you.

Your letter is quite dark.

You say there's disturbance in France.

The people is in turmoil. I am not part of its History

and it worries me.

I don't like your sadness. It suits you too well.

The English have a society of the friends of the blacks.

Brisseau wanted to found one in France.

There would be Condorcet, Mirabeau, Lafayette.

The abolitionist current is growing.

It is trifling in view of the concerns in France.

Do you think a mutiny... a revolt is preparing ?

I do think so, Major.

What about your privileges, Excellency ?

The wind of luck is whimsical, so is that of privileges.

Today the nobility, tomorrow the bourgeoisie.

What about the people ?

What ? - The people !

Gentlemen... You can remove the blindfolds.

We ask for the attention and the indulgence of the honorable audience.

Well... Gentlemen... We're ready.

Have a nice trip, Mr Crab.

The light of sleeplessness. I miss you so much.

You must come back. It's been already two years.

You are exiled. Quite a pretty word for an ugly state.

And quite short for such a long absence.

France is frozen. The terrible winter seems endless.

I found refuge in the boudoir, my feet in front of the fireplace.

A child died of cold this morning.

I didn't. Diderot did...

It's a dialogue between A and B. B is reading "the travels of Bougainville"

And he talks of morality, truthfulness, jealousy, power.

And what does Mr B think of those?

He says you must not bring moral ideas into physical actions that do no need them.

That should please our priest !

He certainly read Mr Diderot.

Especially the part of the dialogue between the priest and the Tahitian.

He wants to follow his island's custom and

have the visitor sleep with his wife. and his three daughters.

And what did the priest do ? - What do you think ?

He yielded ! - Of course, he yielded.

And slept with the eldest daughter.

I find this quite healthy.

It does not end here. The honest man defended himself,

thought things over and finally bedded the second and third daughter

and at last the wife of his guest as the custom demanded.

Here's an interesting Tahitian !

And a priest happy not have crossed anyone.

Mr A asked Mr B : what's fidelity ?

He says it's the stubbornness and torture of an honest man and an honest woman.

And jealousy ?

Right of ownership extended to a free and thinking object.

And about woman, Monsieur ?

About woman, Major... Mr B ... well, Diderot says

that the world cannot do without her

and that you can't walk out without her crossing our way.

Did you get the thrill you were looking for ?

Did you play with my body as you wanted to ?

I never came so hard.

And so well.

Who were you thinking of ?

Of a woman in France.

With a white belly... Whom I love.

Does she play well with her body ?

She plays in a different way. It's my first time with a negro woman.

I'm no negro woman.

No. Your skin is the color of night.

I am a mulatto.

My father was white. - For love, what does it change ?

Come !

Give me your negro girl.

She's only a slave !

Who can read and write !

Hardly !

It's already too much for a negro girl.

A slave is lucky if she's chosen by the master.

She won't let it slip by.

Give her to me. I'll pay a lot for her.

Come here.

The little room at the end of the gallery.

Yes Sir !

We shall remove the trunks and it will be Amalie's bedroom.

A slave must stay with the slaves.

We shall do as I say, Simeon.

All right, Sir.

Amalie was now close to the Master, a privileged slave.

She learned how to read, how to count.

Moktar's present was growing up and was leaving her childhood behind.

Game of the goose

My go !

No, you can't.

One, two, three...

- Four. - Four !

One, two, three, four.

Right... you must pass.

Yes I pass. Your go !

One, two, three, four.

Five !

One, two, three, four, five.

Bath ! - No !

Or well ...

You fell down into it !

Save me !

I shall try.

One ! Saved ! That's it !

One, two, three, four, five...

Six !

One, two, three, four, five... six !

Bird !

Yes... eagle... You fly to square 13.

He's a governor like you ?

Almost... Charles VII. King of France, a long time ago !

And who is she ?

She's the mother of this king, Charles VII.

What's the mother ?

The mother... Well... you see... Father, mother, child.

You are the child of a father and a mother too...

Later, you'll have children. You will be a mother.

Yaye, Amalie... Mum !

Yaye... Mum...

Yes. Mum.

And who is he ?

Louis the XVI, king of France.

And after, it's over ?

Yes, it's over.

Shall we stop, Amalie ?

If you wish so...

Where is yaye ?

I don't know.

The kings of France only bore Amalie.

The royal frigate "L'aurore" sailed in today.

You don't say much about yourself.

but a lot about that France which is not well.

The king may recall me at any time. What do you think ?

Did I tell you how much Amalie improved ?

Why do you not come back ? France has got a fever.

I cannot guess what will become of this country.

You must have been told that Bastille has been destroyed.

A declaration of the rights of men was voted.

Did you know that a Mr Washington

is elected President of the Union of American States.

There's food shortage in France.

What can we wish them ?

Who ? those sailors or those negroes ?

Captivity until they die in a foreign land

or a nice shipwreck in the ocean ?

We can't wish for a ship to sink, Pierre.

What's Mr de Kermadec doing ?

He's picking up weapons for the negro kings including the Salome's

and Mr Denis will take care of delivery.

They feed the small wars and the kings provide captives.

The king forgot all about me, Pierre. I could sail back home on the next ship.

Yet I'm staying.

I'm staying here to worry about a small negro girl.

whom I take for my daughter.

A few months back I was about to offer her as a monkey

to a woman of the French nobility.

That friends of the blacks society aims to destroy our economy.

And Lafayette is part of the plot.

How can you speak of friendship about a negro ?

Mr Parplais... You took part in the independence war

what do you think of the American example ?

Well... Ten states voted the abolition and the Quakers refuse slavery.

Slavery or negroes ?

Do you know that the main cause of death for the slaves on our ships

is neither disease nor revolt,

it's suicide.

And you don't care ?

The negroes fear we'll make wine with their blood

or that we'll eat them on arrival. So they'd rather die.

Fear. No more.

How can we solve the problem of the freedom for the blacks ?

By not raising the matter.

They are not able to think.

Mr Denis, why do you say so ?

The evolution of a people in the history of mankind

is a matter of age. Africa is young, Monsieur.

Yes, very young.

They only like idleness. Make them work, they revolt.

May I ask you the question : if I put you in chains to serve me

you would revolt, wouldn't you ?

With due respect, Excellency, this is an impossible comparison.

You don't say !

There's a right one though between the negro and the white man,

it's like being astonished that a white truffle tastes different from a black one.

Yes... it's a matter of taste.

Some scientists say that climate has an influence on the colour of skin.

They'd be black because of the sun !

Quite a sunstroke !

Do you believe this, Father ?

Not at all. But theologians say it's an original curse.

It goes back to Noah.

Black really is the cursed color !

It might be so !

It's all Noah's fault then...

Buffoon says it's difficult to determine the le emit between ze monkey and ze negro.

You said buffoon, didn't you ?

He meant Buffoon, Your Excellency...

I find these people wonderful. Without anger.

Their children are so beautiful, so sweet.

Major ! You like them too much !

They're people without any moral sense.

They copulate in public. And often.

So do I. I copulate often. With a negro woman !

Do you know what Herodotus was saying, Mr de Kermadec ?

That negroes' seed is as dark as their soul.

You're making fun ?

Not at all. We know now, from a lady friend of mine, that it is not true.

At home we use the rule of the 3 p's, pao, pan, pao

Bread, cloth and whip.

That's the right age to have them : they have a tight sex, no hair yet...

They wriggle under you and shake like little birds.

No, Monsieur, No. She's still a child.

Not for long. - Let her go !

Forgive me, Excellency. I didn't know you were that negress's owner.

I'm not the owner.

She's my daughter.

Get out !

I am your guest. Don't make me ask for redress.

Don't ask me for anything. I only fight with Men of Honor.

Get out !

That man is very rude but he is not bad, Governor !

He's got a rough life.

That's no excuse, Monsieur.

There's a nice word in the French language : tolerance

I find it contemptuous, patronizing.

I want to be intolerantto what I dislike.

I dislike everything this man stands for.

Do it for me.

You want to give me as a present to the French lady.

You want me write, sing, learn for a present ?

Who told you such nonsense ?

Play. I'm going to sing.

It was a men's diner, my dear. With lots to drink.

Not the best vintage.

I don't like wine.

I was speaking of the men.

You were supposed to join me.

I know. I tarried along.

The girl sings divinely well. - She does ?

She does. She grows fast and beautiful, doesn't she ?

Yes, Governor ! Sir !

I miss our loves !

Here, men have neither your lightness nor your imagination

I only sing easy songs now.

You tell me that you will go and meet some negro king.

France makes you establish a slave port in his states.

Do the negroes sell each other ?

What's Amalie doing ?

She's asleep.

You're right. She must be asleep.

Where's Amalie ?

She left two days ago...

Stop repeating the same thing ! You're too stupid ! Go away !

Where's Amalie ? - Gone...

I will kill you !

What are you saying ?

She was living alone here. So she left.

She was unhappy here ? I give her everything.

Africans like to live in a group. Not alone in a room.

Come on... Go away !

Go away !

Ah... Major !

I must find this little girl.

I had understood, Excellency !

One of my lieutenant is in the bush with soldiers. I'll get news

tomorrow at the latest.

I'd rather go and look for her myself.

Impossible !

Amalie probably ran away towards the Fouta.

I cannot let you wander along a river which you know the reputation of.

Give me an escort, Major !

I must say no.

Is it reasonable to do all this for a slave ?

You say so !

I'm sorry.

Amalie is not a slave any more.

Let's respect her freedom and her choice then.

She's too young to know.

14 or 15. She is a woman here.

What would have become of her after you'd have left ?

Nothing was said about leaving, Major !

You will leave, she will stay.

What would have become of her, telling poetry in the desert sands ?

Or singing hymns on Sundays to thank God for meeting you.

Forgive me !

I order you to give me an escort.

Yes, Sir !

They rode past Podor and went further east.

They met the desert monks, the warriors of the rain.

I could never find that tribe.

No one could ever confirm they really existed.

White men came a long time ago.

They had gold, beautiful horses.

but no heads any more.

Why no heads ?

Ants had eaten their brains.

Their mouths were wide open.

But the ants would not come out.

A great marabou said they were dead men looking for their souls,

that their God had punished them for waging war to another God.

He also said they announced the big Shale desert.

1292. The capture of St John of Acre.

Five centuries ago exactly.

Weapons of the Capetians and the Valois.

A man came from the village burnt down by the Arabians.

He said two young girls had come the day before.

They were coming from the coast, on the river.

The Moors took them away with almost all the women.

3 days ago, 5 women and 2 girls came this way.

She says they're fugitive slaves.

And the youngest had...

She says this tea is as light as death.

It is safe to drink it.

He says horsemen rode up there on the dune.

His trip in life is not finished yet.

His destiny is a free man's.

I read many things in his fever and his blood.

Be careful. He is asleep.

The marabou said you must drink this.

But you must be inside the shells circle.

You must not move from here before sunset.

Why did you take this portrait ?

All those who love you must protect you.

He said that the white lady who lived in your house had power over you.

No, not now.

No, the marabou said no.

Oh Pierre, come release me.

Simeon said I was not to wake you up but Amalie took care of it, I see.

Don't come nearer. Don't come nearer.

Forgive us, my dear. But this shell circle is supposed to protect me.

All right, let's not upset the marabou's plans.

Do you believe in it ?

What about you ?

If Amalie believes, I must believe too.

The marabou said that you did not have to believe.

Your fever is not only African.

He says your soul is like a bird lost in the night.

He panics and flaps his wings. He doesn't where to settle.

Your soul must find a branch.

Drink up !

You're already looking better.

A Portuguese brig beached on the North Coast.

Six men managed to escape with a rowboat.

They were coming from Santo Domingo.

There, the slaves burnt down the French Cape and killed all the colonists.

New governors have been appointed in the colonies.

I heard you were invisible.

I am indeed invisible.

I was worried.

Oh but you shouldn't.

You've lost your bracelet.

Yes, on Amalie's arm.

You want it back ?

No... Tell me. I need entertainment.

He did not write any more. Louise was so far away.

No ship for months.

No money for the wages.

No organizer any more. He'd left for the West Indies with his pockets full.

Cape St Louis lacked everything.

During this time, in Europe, Mozart had died.

The French Republic was about to be proclaimed.

There was a war too. Against the Austrians.

Amalie was one year older.

Who gave you this ?

Anne Brisseau... It's a surprise to please you.

It's an unpleasant surprise.

You look ridiculous in that dress. Whom do you want to be like ?

The white lady in the portrait, Louise. She has got the same sort of dress.

The white lady is white, Amalie. You're an African. Stay an African.

You're beautiful in your own clothes.

Not with this dress ?

You're beautiful with that dress but you're ridiculous.

That's all. I don't like that dress.

You like it better on her. My skin is too dark for such a dress ?

Take it off. At once.

Come on.

What are you doing ?

You told me to take off that dress.

I'm nothing but a slave.

Under a pretence of mindlessness, my father hid his strange happiness.

He did not have the means to give parties at the palace,

so he gave them on the beach, at the priest's.

It was a party to honor the king,

the Republic, the fallen nobility,

his five years in exile.

He celebrated his five year exile.

Captain ? - Hello !

I see we're dressed fashionably.

I don't know if I'm still governor.

Gentlemen, Madam, Major !

Ella prepared a few coconut cakes for you.

And I bought a bottle.

Cost me a real fortune.

I'm not surprised. It comes from my coffer.

It was broken into last night.

- I'm sorry ! - It's not a problem.

I'll give it back to you. - Don't. You've got taste.

Was she a virgin ?

Excuse me...

Don't take offense. People here don't get embarrassed for so little.

Well... So little. Just a way of speaking.

Do you know what these young butterflies say about their virginity ?

That they've got three. One, the Moors take from them...

One they give to their friend. The other they sell to their husband.

And you're the one who says so. - No. They do.

I find it charming.

She hadn't got a friend. The Moors did not rape her

and she has not got a husband yet.

So she was a virgin.

It's rare at that age.

Is it what prevents you from seeing me ?

You had a lot of pleasure with me, is it not the truth ?

Yes, Madame.

That negro girl satisfies you ?

Yes, madame.

When will you go back to France ?

You will take her with you?

I don't want to think about that future.

It's near.

Well ?

I don't know what the Revolution did. It does not matter to me.

My life is here now.

I have the feeling you lost your head before it is cut off.

I'm still very jealous.... My love.

Everyone says you'll leave for France very soon. Is it true ?

What if I didn't leave ?

Your Amalie would be happy.

Take it. It will protect you from evil.

What about you ? Who will protect you ?

You will. You've got to because the child is here.

I've got your child.

Take me in your arms.

My name is Amalie Mouna Ba

My name is... - Jean-François de la Peine.

No. De la Plaine.

- Who will he be ? To the father.

Paul Abdu Marat Aissatou

Citizen of the world.

Major ! Ship coming.

La Belle Pauline !

Blue, white and red flag.

The flag of the Republic.

Do you believe that changing flags, men change too ?

I would like to go to the mission with Naima.

Why ?

Christmas is coming soon. I must sing at the mission with Naima.

Christmas is in a month, Amalie.

Take me to the mission.

I shall be back.

I'm taking your watercolor, Pierre.

I'll leave Louise with you. I shall see her.

I hope they won't have cut off her head. She had such a lovely voice.

I liked walking this road with you, Jean-François.

You should write about diversity,

sweep away the inanities of encyclopedias and encyclopedists,

and of those who will follow.

You should write a tribute to diversity.

You look gloomy !

I am the one leaving, you know.

Now you're in command. I don't worry about the colony.

Thank you. Everything's ready. "La belle Pauline" is waiting for you.

The commander of the naval fleet of the Republic annoys me.

You'd think he had done the Revolution all by himself.

His father is a very wealthy colonist from Saint Dominique.

He still practises the slave trade on the Dahomey coast.

Infamous !

There will be more like him, Major !

The Convention is calling me back. The Revolution must put me on trial.

The true exile is starting.

My father would come back to France

which was in a turbulent and bloody rebirth.

The Convention would not cut off his head.

The king's had fallen down on the 21st of January 1793.

Louise de St Agnan had come out of the Conciergerie alive but she had aged.

French nobility submitted itself.

In Africa, Pierre Combaud had died from an unknown fever.

He did not get the chance to write his tribute to diversity.

My father wanted to see Amalie again and his child.

He wanted to sail on the river with her,

put his head down on her belly

taste the juice of fruit, the froth on fresh milk.

but he never saw my mother again.

She died when I was born. She was so fragile, so young.

And my father was so far away, so close to death too.

But he had got the charms that my mother did not have any more.

That's what we must believe in, maybe.

Of the small countess Amalie, my mother, I only have a blue and ochre watercolour.

On the back it says "Amalie Mouna Ba" 1792.